


Our Scars

by FenMelava (missara), missara



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cutesy, Drabble, F/M, Friendship/Love, Love, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 08:21:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3374447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missara/pseuds/FenMelava, https://archiveofourown.org/users/missara/pseuds/missara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen and his sweetheart each confess where and how they received their scars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Scars

His hands traced the scar on her jawbone, wondering how she got that one. Unlike so many of her other scars, this one was there before the Inquisition.  In his mind, he made up scenarios of how the scar came to be. Dueling with one of her brothers, rough-housing with her mabari, but he knew none of them were even close to the truth.

He knew she had been sent away to the Ostwick Circle when she was only five, knew that this scar came from one of the many atrocities that had occurred. He had seen them with his own eyes, even committed them. “Cullen?”

His eyes snapped back to the beauty in his arms. “Yes, my dear?”

Pushing back a strand of her red hair, she turned to him, “I asked you a question.”

Cullen swore under his breath, trying to compose himself as he sat up on the bed, dragging her closer to him. “I’m sorry Evelyn.”

She sighed, pressing her lips against the stubble on his cheek, “it's fine.” She swung her legs over the bed, wiggling away from his arms, pulling on her blouse. “I have to meet Dorian at the War Room soon.” When he cocked his head, she waved a parchment letter in the air, “One of Leliana’s scouts came by while you were sleeping.”

He chuckled softly, pushing off the bed with his hands. “How long have you been awake?”

“Oh, only a few hours now,” she shrugged, “You know me. I don’t sleep for very long.” His heart sank thinking of how little sleep she got anymore. He had heard her pacing about early in the morn, but if he said anything, she would know that he was still having the nightmares.

“Or at all,” Cullen murmured, stretching his arms, yawning slightly as she pulled on her boots. “Do you really have to go?”

“As much as I would love to be lazy with you all day, duty calls.” She turned around, plopping a kiss on his forehead. “Are we still on for dinner?”

He smiled, watching her as she pulled her hair back into a bun, strands of red poking out. “Yes, of course.”

“Great. Okay, I have to go.” She leaned over him, giving him a peck on the lips before sliding down the ladder and he waited until he couldn’t hear her footsteps before releasing the breath he was holding.

* * *

The day couldn’t go by faster, he thought as he tried to pay attention during the meeting, his thoughts constantly returning to her. She usually stopped by at least once during the day when she wasn’t out on missions but today he hadn’t seen her at all except for the morning.

He supposed it had something to do with what Dorian needed to talk to her about. From what she said, the mage had been searching for anything linking Corypheus to Tevinter heritage. According to her, if they could discover who he really was, hopefully they could discredit the darkspawn magister. “Commander?”

Cullen cleared his throat, returning his gaze to the parchment in his hand. Reading it over once more, he handed it back to the scout, “Get it done.” His eyes immediately fell to the door as it creaked open and she came in, pressing a finger to her lips. He nodded towards her before returning to the others, dismissing them.

“You don’t need to do that every time I come by,” she walked over behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders leaning over him as he neatly piled up the mess of papers on his desk.

“We have a dinner to attend to, do we not?”

She stepped back, “Unless you have more to do.”

“I’m all done for the day. And if I wasn’t,” he took her hand in his, kissing both of them separately, “It could wait one more day.”

“Well, if you insist,” she said, “commander,” enunciating his title among the Inquisition, as she lead him out of his office. As they walked from the battlements to the rotunda, she turned around, walking backwards and grinned sheepishly at him. “So I kind of had Dorian help me and Vivienne was able to get some wine for us.”

He grabbed her waist, pulling her to him and kissed her, “I’m sure it’s perfect.” With a content sigh, she pulled away, still holding onto his hand and led him to her chambers, not even bothering to be discreet as he noticed all the eyes following them.

“Shit,” she said as they stepped into the balcony, and she began swatting away the birds that had helped themselves. Once they had flown away, she knelt on the tattered picnic cloth, brushing off the bread crumbs, grabbed the bottle of wine and the two glasses and turned to him. “Will wine do?” She smiled feebly at him, the glasses clinking together.

“That sounds wonderful,” he replied, offering a hand to her as she accepted, pulling her up on her feet.

He gestured towards the room and they found themselves sitting on the floor, leaning against her bed, laughing; glasses of wine half full. “You’ve never told me how you got that scar,” she said, brushing her fingers over the scar on his lip.

“I did tell you. Kirkwall," he said. 

“Now, that’s hardly fair!” She said, pouting slightly.

“I told you about the rebellion and how the Knight-Commander went insane,” he reminded her.

“Because of the red lyrium,” she noted, sipping the wine in her hand.

“When she turned on me, I hadn’t fully grasped the situation. All I knew was that the mages were rebelling and they needed to be shut down.” He gripped her knee tightly, knowing how sensitive the topic was to her. “She struck me, almost killed me if it weren’t for the Champion.” He ran his fingers over the scar, “This was a reminder.” He paused, “A reminder to not be so blind.”

“Cullen…” she muttered, placing her glass on the floor beside her and pulling him into an embrace.

“I’ve moved on, dear. Now, you tell me how you got that scar,” he said, running his finger over the scar directly above her jawline.

“Oh, this?” She asked, pushing away his hand. “That’s nothing,” she retorted.

“That is most certainly not fair,” Cullen pointed out, his hands falling to her waist.

She sighed. “Before the rebellion, there was… a templar that used me as his plaything.” Her eyes darted around, and he understood why she was reluctant to share with him. “The first… time I fought back. This was what I got.” She moved her hand to run over the scar, but he gripped it, placing it on his heart.

“I will never do that to you.”

“Oh, neither Cullen,” she whispered, pulling the corners of her mouth into a smile enough that her dimples showed, “Nor I you,” and he showered the scar on her jawline with kisses.


End file.
